Albatross (37 page)

David woke with a start. He had been sitting out on the veranda when he took a rest from listening to his audiobook.
I must have fallen asleep again,
David thought as he adjusted himself in his porch chair. David could feel the sun on his face, but it was low in the horizon. He then moved his head slightly and was able to hear Emma laughing as he heard pots banging in the kitchen. It took years for him to learn how to navigate the world in darkness. David remembered shortly after his wife had died how he had never wanted to see again or live, for that matter. Emma was the first to give him hope and a will to live. Once it was clear to him that she needed protection, he was able to motivate and mobilize himself. There had been many times over the years when David had second-guessed his abilities to expand beyond himself, but he always had the goal of keeping Emma and Becky safe. Of late, though, he found himself reexperiencing past pain. He had wondered if it was a sort of survivor’s guilt.

Post-traumatic stress reaction? Unresolved grief reaction? Moderate depression?
David would often think to himself.

It took years to rebuild his life with a focus of striking back and escaping. With that done and nothing to distract him, David now had time to just think. He used to be a psychologist who helped people. He married a wonderful woman and had a beautiful life.

And in a flash, it was gone.

David felt for his audiobook and found it by the side of the chair. Over the past several weeks, he had had difficulty sleeping, and his appetite had waned. He typically was able to exercise, and that made him feel better; however, he kept focusing on “preparing for the future.” Because they all slept in the same room, David found that he felt better when he was awake at night, listening to them sleep, and then he would sleep during the day when he could easily hear them milling about. David knew by Becky’s comments that she had noticed that his clothes were loose on him and that he was getting up at night.

One of the things he loved about Becky was her bluntness. It didn’t take her long to ask what was wrong.

“Okay. What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked him as he was trying to find yet another text to speech article on software viruses.

Instead of saying “nothing” or making something up like he used to in his prior life, he articulated what he had been thinking for weeks.

“I thought when we had gotten our leverage and escaped, we would be free. You know, find a Greek island and just sit back and meditate all day. I thought if we could do the impossible, pulling off this mission and getting away with it, I would finally be able to relax. And the fact that no one got killed was just miraculous.”

David immediately thought of Anthony Maxwell and felt guilt. There was his death … and the two others. David knew he hadn’t pulled the trigger, but he also knew he had helped set it up.

A time to pluck up that which is planted, a time to kill, and a time to heal
, David thought to himself.

David pushed the random thoughts out of his head and continued before he forgot his point.

“But I find myself more anxious now than I ever was back in Rhode Island and Boston. I feel like I’m on borrowed time, like we all are on borrowed time. And I am not sure I could survive without you and Emma. I can’t lose you.”

David felt quiet as his voice felt tired and cracked toward the end. He felt a great burden lift from his chest as he revealed his greatest fear to the woman he loved.

He heard Becky sniffle and her chair move as she came over to hold him tightly.

For the moment, David felt at peace in her arms.

Presently, David’s rumination was interrupted by Emma’s and Becky’s laughter. David instinctively smiled when he heard them laugh.

David found his book’s cue button, and the last stanza came to life in the form of a low, professionally trained voice:

Thus play I in one person many people,

And none contented: sometimes am I king;

Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,

And so I am: then crushing penury

Persuades me I was better when a king;

Then am I king’d again—

David turned it off immediately. He knew the rest well. He found himself listening to more poetry similar to Shakespeare’s
Richard II.

No wonder you’re depressed. Anyone listening to this stuff would be depressed
, David thought.

Then David made a curious connection.

Maybe I am trying to go back to someone I used to be,
he wondered.

But now I am a father and a fugitive … kind of a strange mix,
he had to admit.

David was about to make a note in his audiobook’s digital recorder to order more comedies and drop the orders for the serious plays when he heard Becky call him from the house.

“Dinner!” Becky yelled.

“And Emma, move your shoes! I’m falling all over them. Why do you always have to leave them in my way?” Becky continued.

“Sorry,” came Emma’s singsong reply.

“Good thing she’s cute,” David said as he pulled himself from the chair.

As he stood, he straightened his back and took a deep, cleansing breath of sea air. The fading warm rays of sun still felt good on his face.

Tomorrow will be a better day,
David thought.